Hocus Pocus
by aphrodite931
Summary: The Witchy Trio were hung 300 years ago on All Hallow's Eve and swore that they'd rise again to steal the lives of all the children in Salem. It's 300 years later and the witches are back and hell bent on sucking the life out of all the children, particularly one Peter Kirkland. Can Amelia and Arthur along with the help of a cursed cat protect him from this devilish trio? UK/fem!US
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ok, so this is in honor of Halloween and I hope to have a chapter every few days until I finish on Halloween night. This is all one just giant hope though so sorry if this extends into November. So this story is not a verbatim re-telling of the movie. Yes, it is a lot like the movie but somethings will be different. Also, there will be fem! characters in this.**

**Alice- Fem! England**

**Elin- Fem! Norway**

**Andreea- Fem! Romania**

**So who better to be the Sanderson Sisters than the Magic trio's fem versions? This then led me to the difficult decision of creating names for fem! Norway and fem! Romania so I merely used popular names for females in their country. Now without further ado... Hocus Pocus!**

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Hocus Pocus

_Salem 1693_

Dawn's amber rays were nigh to appear in the morning sky. The chill from the evening still clung to the limbs of the trees and blades of the grass. An enchanting melody was whispered in the background; almost as if it were the mere wind cajoling the town's barely wakening occupants back into a deep slumber.

"Ludwig?" An albino teen murmured as he slowly found himself roused from sleep. The early morn did not seem to hold any ill will or malice but the teenager couldn't shake the foreboding thoughts from his head.

'As long as Ludwig's fine…' Gilbert reassured himself.

"Ludwig?" He called out once more, receiving no answer. Groggily, the teen made his way outside of their small wooden dwelling. The pair hadn't been living in the Americas long, a few months perhaps. Previously, they had lived in the upper story of their father's blacksmith in the 'old country'. Gilbert had gotten used to referring it as such as neither pair knew just where in the 'old country' they were from. Their home had resided just on the border of Prussia and Germany, or as far as any could surmise it was. Some said the division between the two nations lied twenty miles to north just after the second oak trees. Others claimed it was 10 miles south at the rivers bend. Their mother's running joke was that Gilbert was born in Prussia and Ludwig in Germany. And while their mother dressed up the situation with humor, the situation in truth was tiring as they paid taxes to both states. Perhaps that was what convinced his parents to move to the 'new country', the land beyond the dark ocean depths, America. A French fur trapper was the one to allude to the great natural riches this 'new world' possessed. If their father could not run a smithery in the Americas, he could become a fur trapper.

It all seemed so perfect. And it all ended in a perfect tragedy. What they hadn't been told were of the perils they would face. Storms and strict rationing were expected but the multitude of sickness aboard was stifling. Their mother fell ill first. Gilbert tried to tend to her as best he could but soon found himself overwhelmed as his little brother and father succumbed too. In the end, only his brother pulled through. It broke his heart that he couldn't give his parents a proper burial. There would be no grave to visit, no solace in their earthly hearths, only a memory. But, he still had his brother. He wouldn't wallow in sorrow. Instead, he'd throw himself head first into taking care of the only family he had left. Thankfully, their father hadn't left them completely destitute. Granted they had little money left after paying their crossing fee, but Gilbert's father had taught him well. The albino knew various tricks and trades and any good blacksmith. He only hoped it would serve him and his brother well in the 'new world'. Thankfully, it did; although he wasn't sure if it was their tragic story or his skill that had earned him an apprenticeship at the local blacksmiths when they landed.

"Ludwig?" Gilbert cried out once more, finally rousing enough to don on a shirt and trousers and meander to his stoop. It was just a slight movement that caught his eye but one that filled him with dread. His little brother was running into the woods behind a woman…no, a witch.

"Ludwig!" Gilbert cried out, terror coursing through his bones. Quickly rounding on his step, Gilbert nearly flew to his neighbor's doorstep and began pounding on the wood. "Answer the door Elizabeta!" he hollered, before nearly falling into the entranceway.

In front of him stood a groggy and grumpy brunette.

"Why ist thou calling upon me so early?" she grumbled, having not yet taken the time to notice the frantic state Gilbert was in. Her chocolate hair fell in loose unkempt curls and her viridian green eyes hidden under the fists which rubbed at her eyes. A pale white frock covered her body,something that Gilbert would have surely mocked her for had the situation been different.

"Luddy!" Gilbert gasped, "He's gone into the woods after a witch!"

"A witch!" Elizabeta shrieked.

"Yes, now rouse your father and the other town's people. I'm going after him!"

"But how willst we know where to go?" Elizabeta demanded before a plume or purple smoke broke from above the tree line.

"They conjure," Gilbert whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Go," Elizabeta commanded. "I'll wake my father and the others. Run!"

Gilbert obeyed the brunette and tore into the trees after his brother. The branches tore at his clothes and the slippery mud threatened to send him to knees, which it did on occasion. Sticky silvers of blood pooled from scratches and nicks he received as he kept up his frantic pace. The woods just kept pulling him deeper, as if they were in league with the witches and wished to keep him trapped in there forever. The canopy above prevented him from following the trail of purple smoke but Gilbert pressed on. He couldn't give up. Finally, he reached a clearing. The sun had finally broken into the sky though it was still early. Gilbert desperately looked about, hoping to spot a sign of the witches whereabouts. A plume of violet rose up to the west and Gilbert immediately took after it. Thankfully, the trees here weren't as dense allowing the albino to stay on track. Gilbert burst through the thicket nearly falling into the river surrounding the eastern half of the house. Spotting a window, he gingerly crossed the moss laden stones trying not to fall into the dark stream.

Quietly, the teen pushed open the frame and peered into the rustic cabin. The innards were mainly brown as both the home and most of the furniture was made of wood. Various cabinets and book shelves littered the walls, all of which were filled with ominous vials and books. Lit candles decorated nearly every available surface as the cabin's occupants appeared to prefer the waxen lights to the sun.

"Look here sisters! Just one more ingredient and the potion will be ready," a graying witch in pigtails cries out maliciously. "Sister, why don't thou let me brew the position for a while?" the blonde piqued. Her eyes were sunken in and hidden by the bags of her eyelids although one could still see the green iris beneath. A large and unkempt mole protruded just above a bushy brow on her right eye. Her hands were worn and feeble, decorated with both large and small liver spots that Gilbert could only assume freckled her whole body under her green cloak and bodice.

"Because thou'st would make it explode," the witch hovering over the cauldron replied in return. Her hair, like the other witch's, was scraggly and frayed. Though, her hair was closer to having turned pure white while her sister's was more akin to salt and pepper. Her frock wasn't as elaborate as green-eyed witch which was decorated in various embroideries and bobbles to the extent to which it seemed she suffered from a sewing affliction.

'Perhaps she feels poorly about her chest, or lack thereof,' Gilbert pondered as he thought back to his friend and neighbor, Elizabeta, who was quite well endowed.

But this witch wore a simple lavender dress made of a flowing type of fabric that swayed as she stirred the brew. Her eyes were dull, pale blue and Gilbert almost wondered if she was blind as they stared listless into the cauldron. Small moles dotted the countor of the frown that was etched on her features.

"I shall not!" the flat-chested witch shouted indignantly.

"Oh yes thou'st would!" a graying brunette, the same one who lured Ludwig into the woods laughed. Her dress was far less modest than the lavender witch's but lacked the ornamentation of the pig-tailed witch. This witch's frock was an obscenely low cut ruby dress that probably would have matched the fire pits of hell. Although Gilbert was far more preoccupied with the scandalous cleavage he could see than the color of the garment. And while this witch was the easiest to look at, her decrypt age and wrinkled still prevailed and appeared to be the common element between the three.

"Oh, shut up the both of you!" the emerald clad witch spat, her eyes growing venomous as she turned on her fellow witches. "Fine! I shan't touch the potion but I suppose I shall inform thee wretches that it is time to add a dead man's toe," the blonde pouted.

"Oh, doth Alice pout?" the brunette teased as her wirey auburn flew about her head in a chaotic dance.

"Shove it Andreea and fetch a dead man's toe!" Alice bit.

"Dead man's toe! A dead man's toe! Dead man's toe!" the brunette cheered, clearly taking no offense at the others tone as she danced about the abode.

"I said shut it Andreea!" Alice snapped as she grabbed the necessary ingredient and handed it to the silver haired mage who promptly added it to the potion.

"So mean Alice," Andreea answered, now sporting a frown.

"Quiet both of thee," the purple clad hag bit, "Now Alice, what else must we do?"

"Hmmm," Alice hummed thoughtfully as she read the instructions from her retched tome, "It says here that we must add 'a bit of thy own tongue'." All three gathered round the cauldron before biting their tongue and spitting into the brew, turning it an eerie green.

"Haha! Sisters it's ready!" Alice grinned maliciously.

"Ist thou sure?" the silver haired witch answered blandly.

"Yes Elin," Alice replied, venom in her tone.

"My apologies my sister we just know your talent for brewing-"

"That doth not mean I cannot read!" Alice spat.

"Who doth care! Let's become young again!" Andreea giggled.

"Let's," Alice sighed softly for smiling. Taking the large wooden spoon that had been used to brew the potion, Alice scooped the liquid in. "Open up child," she hummed, pushing the large spoon to Ludwig's lips.

"Stop!"

All of the witches turned to face the voice to find a boy now standing in their midst.

"Sisters!" Alice screeched, not wanting to deal with the meddlesome teenager herself.

Both Andreea and Elin went after the boy.

"Come here little boy!" Andreea giggled, happily going after Gilbert whilst Elin went about the matter more stoically. Gilbert ducked behind the cauldron pushing it into the two witches and knocking it over.

"My potion!" Alice cried. With fiery light in her eyes, Alice turned towards Gilbert. Sparks flew from her finger tips hitting the albino and causing him to pass out from the pain. "Impudent brat!" Alice hissed. "And tho! Just what's the matter with thee! Letting a human boy best thee sisters!"

"Sorry Alice. I wanted to play with him before we killed him," Andreea admitted bashfully.

Elin didn't offer an explanation, merely a miffed expression.

"No matter. Look!" Alice cried, pointing to Ludwig. The boy was now glowing. "He has taken some of the potion! His life force is ours for the taking!" Alice cackled. "Sisters," Alice cried, holding out her hands, "Join me."

Together the three approached the young boy. The three puckered their weathered and chapped lips as they began to suck and draw the illuminated life force from the young child.

Gilbert groaned as he woke from his stupor. His ruby eyes blinked repeatedly as he regained consciousness.

"No, …Ludwig," moaned Gilbert as he came to. Ruby eyes fell upon the witches sucking his little brother's life source. "Ludwig."

But it was too late. Ludwig's once bright, blonde hair was split and gray; his skin was wrinkled and dull and youthful eyes weary and dead. The boy's life source had been devoured.

"Ahhh," the three breathed merrily. Their frayed roots, wrinkled faces, and moles disappeared. Alice's snarled hair had turned a golden blonde and her eyes shone like emeralds. Her weathered skin and liver spots all but vanished. Her skin was smooth of spoke of soft velvet caresses. Elin's hair was rejuvenated as well and long platinum locks fell down past her back. Ice blue eyes, while now youthful, remained cold and callous. Curled auburn hair rested playful along the last witch's back matching the spark in crimson eyes. Her wrinkles had disappeared as well and chest seemed perkier as well.

"We're young again!" Andreea giggled, dancing around.

"Yes! Oh, what a good little book mummy has," Alice cooed, petting the book. "And now, we shall suck the souls of one hundred more children so that thee shall earn eternal youth and beauty!"

"Ugly hags!" Gilbert spat. The three witches turned back to face the recovering Gilbert. The boy was clearly injured judging by the way he clung to the wooden support beam to stay on his feet.

"'Ugly hags'?' Sisters! Do you hear what he called thee?" Alice sneered.

"Let him suffer," Elin answered spitefully.

"Suffer he shall. But how?" Alice pondered. "I know, we'll have thy book decide."

Gilbert had yet to see the devil tome so closely before but cringed at its jacket which appeared to be woven together with human skin. A yellowed eye had been placed on the latch and Gilbert shuddered as the one eye gaze tore through him. Gilbert wasn't sure but he knew no good could come of whatever knowledge or spells it held. Suddenly, the book flew open, the pages flapping about before it grew still and settled.

"Oh yes, this is perfect," Alice grinned maliciously as she finished reading the book's choice of punishment. Her sisters peered over her shoulder and read the ungodly inscription after her, similar smirks plastering their features.

"Sisters," Alice said, placing the book down on the potions cabinet nearby so that her hands were free to perform the enchantment. "Repeat after me: Twist the bones and bend the back, trim him of his baby fat, give him hair as black as black, and a tail that he doth lack, nine lives you'll get and some more, never will thy greet deaths door, suffer eternal you shall see, a witch's companion will thou be."

Immediately, Gilbert's skin began to burn. He felt as if a fire had been set ablaze through his veins. His throat was hoarse and cried out for help though only a wretched sound between an anguished cry and violent hiss made it past his lips.

'I'm dying,' he thought before blacking out.

"Ah, what a cute little kitty," Alice mocked, staring at the limp body of the ebony feline before her.

"Let's keep it!" Andreea giggled, picking up the slowly awakening animal and swinging it about.

"Perhaps, but thy boy still keeps thy's free will though and may be burdensome," Alice commented dryly and as if on cue, the cat emit a horrid hiss and scratched at the brunette.

"Eeep!" Andreea cried, dropping the feline immediately allowing it to disappear somewhere in the house.

Both Elin and Alice laughed at Andreea as she nursed her injured hand.

"I doth not find it so amusing sisters," Andreea pouted.

Alice opened her mouth ready to respond before an angry cry outside of their home alerted them to the growing mob outdoors. Though it was daylight, the torches and various outlines of other makeshift weapons belonging to the villagers could still be seen through the frosted glass.

"Witches!"

"Come forth!"

"Thou shall burn for thy transgressions!"

"Witches?" Alice answered curiously whilst Andree and Elin went about hiding the body of little Ludwig. Andreea conspicuously had placed a sheet over the boy earning her a slap from Elin for her stupidity. Moving towards a trunk placed against the wall, Elin opened the lid and motioned for her sister to bring the body there. Andreea begrudgingly complied, dragging the boy to her sister while she inadvertently knocked over numerous vials and books. Alice glared at the two but they paid little heed, too preoccupied in their task to notice the venom in her emerald eyes.

"We know what thee truly are. Now reveal thyselves devil women and repent!

"Well thou could hardly blame three maidens from refraining in opening thou's hearth to such angry and malicious cries," Alice answered, trying her best to sound pitiful and afraid.

"Break the door', a person cried out. The townspeople were clearly unimpressed by her theatrics. A second the later, the door was removed from its hinges and knocked Alice back.

"Alice!" Andreea and Elin cried, not quite finished in hiding Ludwig's body.

"Look! Ludwig!" a townsperson cried out, seeing the boy's now decrepit face sticking out of the trunk.

"Witch!" the villagers spat in unison, dragging the three from their abode. Although the three were painfully guilty, a trial was still held to uphold the honor of the town. Thus, it was only by nightfall, the three witches had been strung up to a nearby tree, the feet barely touching the barrels that prevented their necks from breaking prematurely.

"Thy neck is most uncomfortable," Andreea giggled and rolled her neck, attempting and failing at flirting with the hangman.

"I ask you one last time, where ist Gilbert?" Elizabeta bit. While they had quickly discovered the lifeless body of Ludwig, they couldn't find hide nor hair of Gilbert.

"…I don't know…I suppose cat's got my tongue," Alice sneered before letting loose a cackle to which her sisters joined her in.

"Witch!"

"Yes, why thank you!" Alice giggled. "Now then, sisters," Alice called, drawing her sisters into harmonizing with her. "Ahhhhh-"

"Listen to her not," a church member cried. The townspeople immediately covered their ears, trying to block out the dreadful sung of the sisters and thus protect themselves from whatever curse they were trying to perform. In the chaos, Alice's spellbook –it had been brought as evidence of witchcraft against the three- had been dropped so that the man could cover his ears as well. The cover opened upon its release and the pages flew about before settling on a page. Alice grinned at what the tome told her.

"Fools! All of you!" Alice chastised, "My ungodly book speaks to you. On 'All Hallow's Eve' when the moon is around, a virgin shall summon us from under the ground. Oh, we shall be back. And the lives of all the children shall be ours!" Alice spat and let loose an evil cackle followed by her sisters before the barrel was kicked from under her and her two sisters.

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**So I worked pretty hard on this and I hope you like it. Please review and look forward to some both US and the UK in the next chapter. :) Review! I'm a comment whore!**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I hope you like this one! In the meantime, this chapter is dedicated to my commenters: LinkParkTheKillersFan, Marshal Thompson, Fred and George Weasley Twins, Arcnavy, and elizabeta H. Austria. Thank you and I hope you look forward to my next update. Please tell me what you think of the interactions between characters. Are they believable or not?

Hocus Pocus 2

"Poor Gilbert Beilschmidt, not a single soul knew what became of him those 300 years ago," the voice announced solemnly. Lifting his head to reveal his amber irises from above his chocolate fringe, the speaker gazed out at the room of captivated teenagers. Despite the serious atmosphere, the man couldn't resist the slight tug of his lip at his students' absolute absorption in his story. And Professor Germania said he sucked at story-telling.

'Well take that!' Professor Vargas thought smugly before his lips turned down once more and he began to finish his tale.

"And so the wicked sisters were hung that night by the people of Salem. Now there are those who say, that on Halloween night, a black cat still guards the witches former hearth. Warning off anybody who might make the witches come back to life…" Professor Vargas narrated, subtly preparing for his finale as he stalked up the rows of desks. Finding his target, Professor Vargas struck.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" the teacher roared, letting loose a black streamer he had managed to conceal somewhere on his ridiculous and hardly appropriate outfit. Though, if the student body had been made aware of original costume, a traditional toga, they could understand how the school comprised on his current attire. The easily sixty year old man, albeit he appeared closer to a man in his early forties, sported a classic Roman legion military outfit, completely with a cape, a sculpted breastplate, and a plated skirt that fell about mid-thigh.

The blonde shrieked akin to that of every female lead in a horror film. And while she was the loudest, she was not alone as half of the class let loose their own squeals and jumped in their seats at the sudden outburst. Fear soon led way to humor however and giggles overtook the students, even the poor victim of Professor Vargas's trick chuckled albeit nervously.

"Th-tha-that's not a true story right?" the blonde piqued nervously as she picked at the streamer caught in her shoulder length wheaten locks. Her bright cobalt eyes nearly hidden in her still dilated pupils, a residual effect of the scare Professor Vargas had given her. Although few of the boys in the class would bother looking at her eyes over her prodigious chest, even if it was hidden under a sweater at the moment. Her legs were a popular second, kept tone through the various physical activity she did regardless of the season despite winter being her least favorite and desire to hibernate in the frozen months.

"Well, the house still stands-"

"Pfft," a scoff rang through the air.

All heads turned towards the disruptive voice, one of which was Professor Vargas himself.

"I see we have a non-believer?" Professor Vargas asked; a hint of annoyance in his voice as he eyed the sloppy blond locks of the teenaged boy. His emerald shone viciously under thick brows that Professor Vargas always pitied him for.

"No. I believe plenty. Magic, witches, warlocks, they're all real I am quite aware," the blond announced, his English accent filling the room.

"Freak," a random voice whispered, although ensuring it was said loud enough to be heard by all and thus inspire others to join in with their own jeers. Professor Vargas ignored the minor insults as did Arthur, both focusing on each other in a battle of wills somewhat.

"Oh really, care to explain the cause for the disruption then Arthur?"

"Well, presuming the American educational system hasn't completely failed the ridiculous lot in this room, you should all know that the cry of 'witch' took off in Salem around this time frame with most of those souls accused being innocent and sent prematurely to their deaths by the foolish whims and greedy desires of adolescents." Arthur earned a few glares and boos for his blatant attack on not only Professor Vargas's story but the insinuation of American inferiority.

"Are you quite finished?" Professor Vargas queried, annoyance giving way to amusement.

"No, as a matter of fact I'm not. These poor souls you lot slander were most likely tragic victims of an overzealous, frightened, and dreadfully repressed bunch of gits. And as for 'poor Gilbert', he probably never existed or just ran off with his brother to a less ridiculous town that doesn't still manage to maintain such bouts of ludicrousy as to carry on this tale."

This final tirade earned him even more jeers and taunts.

"Go back to England," a voice yelled, tossing a rolled up paper at the Brit. Neither Professor Vargas or Arthur could discern who threw it but Arthur responded with a harsh glare to the entire half of the room while Professor Vargas went about settling down the riled up class.

"Alright, alright," Professor Vargas tried to ease, throwing up his hands to emphasize his point. "Arthur here has a right to his opinion…just as you bunch of 'gits' have the right to jump him once off school property," the professor laughed, clearly intending it as a joke though it would seem that not everyone one else felt the same way.

And as fate would have it, the final bell rang.

"Ok kids, remember to have a fun and safe Halloween. Your history projects are due the second week of November so don't procrastinate. Use your candy-induced sugar highs to do some work this weekend," Professor Vargas cried out to the teenagers shuffling to get out and enjoy the weekend.

Arthur slowly packed his belongings away as well. Unlike the others, he didn't care about leaving school as quickly as possible and going back to the house that he was currently living in. He refused to call it home. Home was back in England. Here? Here it was just a dwelling, four walls with a roof over his head. So why would he bother rushing back to that?

He knew that blaming his parents was a ridiculous notion; it's not like they had intended to die and saddle him and his younger brother on his elder siblings but he was still only an adolescent and could damn well be unreasonable if he wanted to be. It didn't help that his 'git' of a brother thought it would be beneficial for them to uproot their lives and every aspect of normality they had left and move to America. Of course, Scott had made a far more convincing case than that but Arthur hadn't bought it. With a heavy heart and an even heavier school bag, Arthur trudged out of the classroom and into the crowded hallway. Students littered the hallway and filled it with raucous noise and animated gestures. The blonde navigated through the masses, weaving about until he fought his way to the doors.

Finally, he was out. His step was slow and deliberate as he set off through the sleepy, dull town. Arthur had to give it to Scott, Salem was just like home only without the benefit of having friends. Yippee. It was only a fifteen or so minute walk from his house to the school and Arthur could already see his house by now. Not wanting to go back there just yet, Arthur veered left and  
headed towards a nearby park. A small iron rod gate surrounded the enclosure. It was mostly comprised of bare grassy hills rather than any traditional playground equipment, an element which suited Arthur's need perfectly as very few children went there thus giving him much peace and quiet. The two sole swings squeaked in the mild breeze and ruffled Arthur's hair. The Brit let loose a content sigh. At least this was nice. Arthur was happy that Scott made them move to place with trees and nature. He didn't know what he'd do if he was stuck in New York City or L.A. Emerald irises gazed in wonder at the various shades of coral, amber, and magenta leaves standing in stark contrast against the pale bark of the trees. It was peaceful, beautiful, wonderful- until a sudden tug on his school bag forced him on his back and onto the ground. Arthur whipped his head about him to find two of his least favorite people standing above him.

"Greetings Privet Arthur," a cheery voice greeted.

"Opium," a far less amused voice welcomed.

"Ivan," Arthur nodded towards the burly of the pair before turning his head to the raven haired Asian next to him, "Yao." The trio remained as they were for a hardly a minute although between the heated glances and roaring tension it felt much longer. It wasn't until Arthur began to feel the dirt and leaves rub against his palms did the silent war of wills end as he readied himself to stand.

"Oh, let me help you comrade," Ivan spoke, his ever present grin belying the malice in his lavender eyes. His large hands reached out and grabbed the lapel of Arthur's beige trench coat and hoisted the smaller teen into the air.

"Put me down you big oaf!" Arthur yelped, his feet dangling a few feet above the ground.

"But I'm helping you da?"

"No! You're not!"

"What do you think Yao? Should I let little Arthur down?"

"Perhaps," Yao said, pointing to a low hanging tree branch onto which to hang the angry Brit.

"I think you're right," Ivan agreed.

"You damn well believe he's ri- Wait, why are we moving? What are you up to?"

"Hey!" Arthur roared as he felt his collar catch on a tree branch.

"I've put you down da?"

"I meant on the ground git!"

"But you're so small. I'm worried that I might accidently step on you then," Ivan smiled.

"What's a matter Opium?"

"I'm hanging on a tree branch and stop calling me that! It's not clever you clod!" Arthur bit. He wasn't sure what he did to get on the Asian's bad side or how to get the nickname 'Opium' unless it was a historical reference to their ethnicities.

"Clod?" Ivan piqued.

"Imbecile, git, tosser, moron, dumbass! Take your pick!" Arthur bit. Even in the most dire situations his tongue never managed to lose its venom.

"That's not very nice to say," Ivan said, his lips turning down into a frown, a rare event that only spelled trouble.

"If the shoe fits," Arthur growled.

"…No, more like, if your shoe fits," Ivan clarified.

"Wha- Hey! Stop that! Stop!" Arthur yelled and squirmed as Ivan began to yank off his sneakers.

"Pfft, unicorns?" Yao chuckled, referring to the unicorn patterned socks Arthur was wearing.

"Th-they were a gift!" Arthur answered, embarrassed.

"Hey!" a new voice called out, turning all three heads in its direction. A mob of blonde hair and blue eyes sprinted towards them. "What are you doing Ivan?" the blonde spat, wavy curls framing her slender cheek bones. She jutted her left hip out just so and placed her hands on her hip, a small pout on her lips giving her the expression of a scolding mother.

"Hello Amelia," Ivan smiled causally while Yao just nodded.

"Hey! Help me get down from here!" Arthur yelled towards Amelia as he squirmed more.

"Then why is Arthur stuck in a tree?"

The question made all three pause.

"You know him?" Ivan asked.

'She _knows_ me?' Arthur thought.

"Y-Yes, well, no," Amelia blushed. "He's in my class!"

"Fine, we will leave little Arthur alone if you play with us instead," the lavender eyed giant grinned.

"Sure," Amelia answered sweetly, "let me ask your sister first though. I saw her walking by her and promised to call her if I saw you." Amelia's eyes narrowed maliciously as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket.

Ivan's already pale face grew paler. Arthur had met Ivan's sisters, both of them. Katyusha was nice girl with an ever nicer rack. That girl was sure to have back problems in the future if she didn't have any now. His other sister, well she was another story. Her glares could kill, he was quite certain. Not that she'd need to bother glaring considering she spent most of the school day sharpening various objects to which he could only imagine were made with the intent to stab.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh. I would. And you," Amelia said, eyes shifting to Yao, "She was with Im."

It was Yao's time to pale now.

"When will that brat realize I don't have breasts," he hissed under his breath, crossing his arms against his chest.

"So are you guys gonna go or what," Amelia said, blatantly scrolling through her contacts until 'Crazy Russian' appeared on her screen with a picture of Natalia's face.

"Da, we will go." Ivan scowled, walking with Yao towards Amelia who in turn pressed her thumb closer to the call button. But the two merely strolled past her, Ivan purposely bumping into her shoulder. "Don't expect much cover during our next game," Ivan called out behind her.

"What else is new!?" Amelia bit back before turning round to face Arthur.

"You okay?"

"Am I-? No! I'm in a bloody tree you git!" Arthur bit.

"Oh, here let me help you," Amelia responded, walking up to Arthur and tugging on her legs. If it wasn't for the fact that he was extremely ticklish in his feet, he'd be a bit more nervous with the proximity of Amelia's head to his crotch.

"He-Hey!" Arthur giggled, "That tickles!"

"Huh," Amelia smiled, ceasing in her attempts.

"What?" Arthur asked as he tried to regain his breath.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile let alone laugh," she beamed.

Arthur could feel his insult catch in his throat and cheeks heat up at the bright smile directed at him.

"W-W-Well you've seen it so belt up and get me down!"

Amelia giggled rather than take offense. "Ok, but I think I'm gonna need to climb up there. Hang in there."

"What else am I going to do?"

Amelia's grin grew wider at the use of sarcasm. Arthur couldn't see just what she was doing but he could hear the scrape of bark against rubber soles and denim jeans. The Brit could only imagine Amelia was now on the tree branch and inching closer as the limb began to creak and bend ever so slightly.

"Alright," Amelia grunted above him, grabbing hold of his coat. Arthur could feel himself be pulled up just a tad and over the offending branch before he was let go abruptly and gravity took over.

"WAAHHHHH- Oooofff!" Arthur grunted, landing on his rear end.

"Oh sorry! I guess I should've given you a warning," Amelia called out before landing next Arthur, only she landed on her feet. Sheepishly, she held out a hand for the Brit to take.

"That would have been beneficial," Arthur groaned, taking the hand Amelia offered him and in doing so remembering his shoes were still missing. "Bloody brilliant."

"What happened to your shoes," Amelia said, noticing his dilemma.

"You think you would have noticed my lack of proper footwear when you were tugging on my feet," Arthur griped, turning his head round looking for his shoes. Seeing they were nowhere in sight and figuring Ivan must still have them or ditched them in an undesirable location by now, he gave up rather quickly. He choose instead to try and brush off the dirt and leaves that had collected on his back and behind, decidingly ignoring Amelia. Of course, it was not in the blonde's nature to let such silence continue.

"So," Amelia drawled, "my name is Amelia."

"I know," Arthur replied blandly, finally content with his appearance.

"O-Oh. You do?"

"Yes, you nearly made me go deaf when you screamed in class earlier today after Professor Vargas threw that streamer at you."

"Oh, yeah. That. …I wasn't really scared you know. I just wanted to play along," Amelia fibbed. Arthur merely raised a brow at the blatant lie but didn't call her out.

"Well, I would introduce myself as well but it would seem you know my name," Arthur responded, fighting the grin threatening to show on his face at her flustered expression. He also couldn't help but feel a modicum of pride considering the most desirable girl in school knew his name.

"Haha, yeah…" Amelia laughed nervously, raising an arm to scratch the back of her head, "Well after you gave that verbal tongue lashing to about everyone in class, how could I not know you."

'Great. She only knows who I am because I insulted America and acted like a prat,' Arthur grimaced.

"So…do you really think Professor Vargas's story was a hoax?" Amelia asked, not really noticing Arthur's growing depression.

"Huh? Oh, well not entirely. I believe the sisters were real, after all their house still stands, I just doubt that they were witches."

"Well that's cool I guess. I think I'll side with Mr. Vargas on this though. The story's cooler that way and it would make the townspeople heroes which is pretty awesome if you ask me," the blonde beamed, unintentionally making Arthur's heart beat faster.

"Ehem," the bushy browed foreigner cough into his hand, "Well I suppose that's a far more comforting thought than the alternative."

Amelia merely smiled in agreement and a silence stretched between the two.

"Well, uhh. I had best be heading home now. My feet are getting cold and all," Arthur mumbled, breaking the silence.

"Oh," Amelia answered and much to Arthur's amazement sounded disappointed. But before he could say anything else, like they could hang out afterwards Amelia spoke up again. "I suppose I should get home too. My parents are hosting their annual Halloween party for all of their friends and I have candy duty."

"Right-o then," Arthur said in turn as he watched Amelia spin on her heel and run out of the park.

"See you around Arthur!" she cried out halfway down the street. Arthur waved her off in return, a gesture she didn't see with her back turned to him. Kicking himself at his own stupidity, Arthur eventually followed in Amelia's footsteps and left the park to go back to his house.

"Welcome home laddie," a thick accent greeted Arthur when he walked through the door. The grumpy Brit sent a glare towards the owner of the overly cheery voice, his brother Scott. His fiery red hair in stark contrast to his viridian eyes much like Arthur's. They, aside from the thick brows, were the only features that proved the two were related. Their builds were completely different. Arthur was lanky, though toned, and the shortest of his family with the exception of his younger brother. Scott was the opposite, tall, bulky, and loud. Not to mention he was a right git, the latter being Arthur's personal summed up opinion of his older brother.

"This isn't my home," Arthur grumbled before stalking off to the basement.

"Mon ami, was your brother not wearing any shoes?" A tall blonde queried, moving out of the kitchen to stand next to Scott. Blue eyes glanced worriedly between the closed basement door and Scott.

"It's fine Francine. Probably just form of protest against this move," Scott sighed, before a feral smile taking over his lips. As quick as a snake, Scott looped his arms around the gorgeous blonde, earning a surprised squeal, before stealing her lips in a heated kiss.

"Ugh," Arthur groaned, able to hear his brother and his new toy make disgusting sounds in the kitchen above. Grabbing a black cloak from a hook at the bottom of the basement stairs, Arthur donned the cape and pulled up the hood so only his green eyes sparkled out from under the black shadow. Picking up a red piece of chalk from the ground that he had put there the night before, he drew a circle and various shapes upon the ground. A round circle littered with hexagons and various other symbols filled the floor when he was finished. Placing a hand above the circle, Arthur began to chant and as he chanted, the circle glowed.

"Santo Rita Meata Mater Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer..."

The circle continued to glow before the light dimmed and finally melded into the darkness. A firm grip abruptly pulled on his shoulder forcing him round and on his arse for the second time that day.

"Booo!" Peter cried, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Peter," Arthur grumbled, getting up from the floor.

"Scott said you'd have to take me trick or treating tonight," Peter said animatedly, ignoring his brother's annoyed tone.

"You've got to be joking me," Arthur deadpanned, nearly freezing to the floor.

"Nope! Now get up and get ready!"

"No Peter, I refuse. Go with a friend," the older Brit groaned. His distress furthering past his younger brother's gripes to realize his spell hadn't worked…again.

"But Scott won't let me. Besides, I'll probably get lost."

"Scott told you to say that didn't he?" Arthur pandered.

"Maybe," Peter drawled, "But it's true nonetheless. I'd never find my way home without you," Peter moaned.

"Then I guess you won't go trick or treating. Besides, why do you want to participate in such a ludicrous holiday and why must I be the one to take you?" Arthur groaned, covering his face with his hand.

"Because it's free candy and Scott has some hot date with Francine tonight or something and can't go so he said you'd have to."

"Well, I refuse," Arthur answered, strutting past his brother to go up to his room. If Arthur had been paying his brother any attention he would have noticed the quivering lips and doe like eyes begin to water.

"SSSCCCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!"

* * *

A/N: Ok, so this chapter was supposed with them waking the Magic Trio but the bully scene became a bit lengthy so yeah. Francine is Fem! France and Yao and Ivan are China and Russia respectively. I hope none of you mind the liberties I've taken thus far but I refuse to copy the screenplay. Anyway, I have a few possible ending and do you think I should make it include Arthur's magical tendencies or follow more closely to the original plot. Asode from that query, I now ask you what phoned in costume should Arthur be for Halloween? I do have three options but if you think of a really awesome one mention it as well as vote.

So options:

Pirate

James Bond

Undercover police officer

And like Torrence said, this isn't a democracy but a cheerocracy so I will go for what I think is best but your vote will be considered, particularly if you argue as to why it should be that way. :) (I'll give those who give credit to that shout out in my next chappie!)


	3. Chapter 3

Trick or Treat

Peter laughed as he spun around in his black robe on the staircase. The ends twirled up similar to a dress, showing off the black dress shoes and slacks underneath. A gray sweater trimmed with red and gold hid all but the collar of a white button up and matching red and gold tie. The look was completed by a pair of circular shaped glasses.

"How do I look?" Peter giggled.

"Like a real wizard!" Francine clapped happily, alabaster gloves muffling the sound. Her blue eyes, twinkling in mirth, stood out more than usual due to the cerulean accents of her Victorian dress. Golden gems decorated the low lying bust line and dropped waist. Similar garnishes adorned her head, placing her hair in half up half down style that framed her high cheek bones flawlessly.

Scott smiled as he watched the two interact. Francine was a God send he was certain. She was so patient and loving with him and his brothers. Peter adored her as well. He just wished Arthur did too, or at least wasn't so openly hostile. He used to be such a cute little kid. The red head couldn't be certain when his little brother went from his adorable and annoying baby brother to aggravating and annoying teenager but he did notice his attitude grew even more sour after their parents passed.

"Jerk brother! Come down here so we can go!" Peter called up the staircase. A groan answered his call and heavy footsteps announced the teen's impending presence. When the teen bound down the stairs, the most striking aspect of Arthur's costume was perhaps his apparent lack thereof. Arthur's "costume" consisted of black slacks, a white button up shirt and black loafers.

"Oh, Arthur. You look so…so…" Francine trailed off, trying to find the words to describe the teen's outfit, "What are you supposed to be?"

"An undercover cop or an unwilling participant in this absurdity," Arthur bit back.

"Huh, I thought for sure you'd go as a wizard too considering you have that creepy cloak and think you can cast spells," Scott smirked, revealing fake, pristine fangs.

"I can too cast spells for your information," Arthur boasted regardless of the fact that none of his spells had actually worked. "And that's a working cloak. It would be disrespectful to the magical arts to go around parading town like a right git in it."

Scott threw up his hands in feigned apology before eyeing his younger brother again, "Well, you're not going to leave the house dressed like that."

"What? Why not?" Arthur screeched, forgetting that not leaving the house was his original intention for that night.

"I don't believe the costume. I mean, do you even have a badge _officer_?" Scott teased. Francine subtly drew a hand to her mouth so that her giggles couldn't be heard.

"Well this is all I have since I wasn't planning on acting like a complete fool tonight," Arthur griped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I think I have a solution," Francine announced. All three heads turned to face her, eyeing her curiously before she left the room in an excited tizzy. It only took her a few minutes to return, her scarlet scarf in hand. With swift and nimble fingers, the blonde looped the scarf around Arthur's waist, tying the ends together at his right hip. Taking a step back she admired her handiwork, apparently dissatisfied as she tsked. "Peter!" she called out drawing the child near only to whisper in his ear.

Arthur piqued one of his impressive brows curiously before being nearly trampled as Peter ran up the step past him.

"Hey!" the teen cried out after the giggling boy before he realized Francine was looming over him one more. He couldn't help but feel slightly nervous under her strict gaze. Her hand reached out and began to unbutton the first few buttons of his top. "H-hey! Quit that!"

But Francine merely kept up until his chest was plainly visible.

"I'll freeze to death out there! Scott! Control your woman!" Arthur yelled, the latter comment earning him a vicious pinch from Francine and snickers from his older brother.

"Got them!" Peter exclaimed, running back down the stairs slapping an object over Arthur's left eye and obstructing his vision before dropping whatever else had been in his hands down at his feet. The object narrowly missing his toes.

"Hey!" Arthur bit again but didn't move as Francine pushed him backwards, landing him on his butt unceremoniously.

"This is child abuse!" Arthur yelled, legs kicking as Francine ripped off his loafers.

"Scott, honey. I'm going to need your help," Francine smirked.

"Coming dear," Scott chirped merrily, more than happy to restrain his brother. Arthur was didn't share the sentiment particularly since it involved Scott straddling his chest and poking his face.

"Hey, do you think while we got 'im pinned we should take care of those eyebrows?"

"Touch my eyebrows and die arse hat!" Arthur answered, pausing in his squirming to glare at his brother.

"He can keep those I suppose," Francine sighed, getting up and walking away a fair pace from the two. "Ok honey, you can get up now. I want to see my masterpiece!"

Scott took a step back and admired his date's accomplishment. The white button up had been a bit baggy and was most likely his, the aftermath of letting Peter do the laundry that one time. The loose dress shirt, while appearing proper only moments before had taken a drastic transformation now that only a few buttons had been opened. It gave Arthur a roguish appearance and his black pants became more menacing after being tucked into dirty, rough boots that Scott had no memory of purchasing. The sash tied around his waist gave off a hint of sixteen hundreds flare. The eye patch finished the ensemble.

"Taadaa! Instant pirate!" the blonde cheered, proud of her handiwork.

"Awww, look how cute my wee lil' pirate brother is," Scott teased.

"Bite me you vampire-"

"There are children present!" Francine protested, cutting Arthur off mid insult. Viridian eyes glared daggers at her but didn't protest.

"Let's go Peter," Arthur grumbled, grabbing hold of his younger brother's arm and whisking him out the door.

"Have fun you two!"

"Be safe!" Scott called out after them.

Nearly two hours and a ridiculously heavy candy sack later, Peter was still knocking on doors much to Arthur's chagrin. The night was growing colder and thanks to Francine's adjustments, so was he. Of course, he initially went to button up the shirt but Peter thwarted his efforts using every bit of blackmail he had on his brother, or at least Arthur hoped that was all his little brother knew. So together they stood on the stoop of an old craftsman house a good ten blocks or so away from their home.

'House,' Arthur chided, this wasn't his home.

"Trick or Treat!" Peter and the other children cried merrily. It didn't take long for the door to open to reveal a wrinkled face and gray hair. Dull amber eyes scanned the gay lot, taking in the youngsters' costumes.

"Aww! How cute! We have an angel, Captain America, and a goblin!" the old woman crooned at the other children before turning to Peter and feigning surprise, "And bless my soul, it's Harry Potter!"

Peter giggled and took out his wand, waving it about a few times before saying, "Candy-ous Give-ous!"

"Peter!" Arthur scolded, but before he could go into a tirade the grandma-like woman cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Oh my! I suppose you're right!" the elder smiled, reaching into her bowl and giving each child, and Arthur, a large handful of sweets. Receiving their treats, the children ran off, scurrying back to their waiting parents or the next new house.

Peter tried to do the same but Arthur wasn't having it.

"Come on jerk face! I wanna get to the next house!"

"Stop whining! And what's the hurry? The next house isn't going anywhere!" Arthur snapped.

"You can't tell me what to do jerk face! Stop acting like you're better than me!"

"I _can_ tell you what to do Peter because you're still only a child and my younger brother. And if you don't stop being a right annoying git, I'm going to go home all by myself and leave you out here all alone!"

"I'd tell Scott on you!"

"Fine! Tell Scott!" Arthur bit, his frustration mounting, "I don't care! I'm already in the seventh circle of hell so it's not like my life can get any worse! So let's get your damn candy and go so you can leave me the hell alone!" Arthur regretted the words the second he said them. He hadn't meant to be so mean but once Peter scratched the surface to his resentment and anger over…well everything, it all just came out in a concentrated mess.

Peter's eyes grew wide and his blue eyes filled with tears.

"Fine! I'll leave you all alone then jerk Arthur!" the little boy cried, running away from Arthur and down the street.

"Peter!" Arthur called out after him, immediately taking after his younger brother. It was hard to keep track of the mop of blonde hair with only one eye, forcing Arthur to grab hold of the eye patch and toss it onto the ground. "Peter! Stop!"

The small child did not stop running until a crack in the asphalt coupled with the dimly lit streets caused Peter to fall. Parents and children alike passed his fallen figure wearily, unsure as to whether or not they should intervene. Ultimately, none stopped, opting to let the two brother's sort out their issues without interference.

"Peter!" Arthur cried out, concern etched in his voice. If there could be any good taken from the fall, it was that Arthur was given the time to catch up. By the time he reached his brother, Peter had curled up into a ball on the sidewalk and clutched his knee. "Peter! Are you okay?"

"What do you care jerk?"

"Peter, I'm sorry, ok?" Arthur panted between labored breaths. Perhaps he needed to hit the gym considering just how out of breath he was. "I didn't mean it."

Peter didn't answer, choosing to close up on himself further.

"Peter," Arthur coaxed, sitting down next to the blond. He placed a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder earning a flinch in response. "Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I-I just hate this place. I wanna go home. I miss my friends. I miss my old life. …I miss Mum and Dad."

"And you think you're the only one. I miss them too Arthur. I miss everything. My friends, my room, the way Mum would kiss me awake in the morning."

Arthur froze at the admission. He knew Peter was hurting but he never really bothered to look past his own pain and at that of those around him.

"Scott misses them too ya know. I hear him talk about them to Francine sometimes. Sometimes he cries and other times it just sounds like he wants to… But you're so self-centered you can't think about anybody but yourself! We all miss them! At least you got more time with Mum and Dad than I did. Do you know that I worry? I worry that I won't remember Mum's face aside from the photo's I see. I worry that I won't remember the way Dad would tell me stories! Stop acting like you're the only one affected you big dumb jerk!"

"…Peter, I'm so sorry…I-I didn't realize-"

"Obviously not!"

"Peter," Arthur cooed, "Come on now. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said and I didn't know."

"Of course not, because you're a jerk who only thinks about himself!" Peter bit back, tears falling from his cobalt irises.

Arthur sighed, "You're right Peter. I am a big jerk. I'm sorry I haven't been nicer to you but I promise to be better or at least to try,"

"You pinky promise?"

"I pinky promise," Arthur assured, taking his younger brother's pinky in his.

"Good, you big jerk."

"All right, I suppose I deserved that."

"And a lot more," Peter pouted.

"Ok, and more too," Arthur admitted reluctantly. "Are you ok to stand?" The teen wasn't sure just how badly Peter had hurt himself when he fell and didn't have the opportunity to discern his brother's condition until now.

"Yeah," Peter answered tepidly, shakily brushing his worried elder brother off to stand.

"All right. Where to next then," Arthur smiled, getting up to join Peter.

"The Jones estate."

"Jones?" Arthur parroted, knowing that to be Amelia's last name.

"Yeah, Wendy from school says that house gives out the best candy every year!" Peter announced animatedly.

"B-but Peter, isn't there some other house you'd rather go to?" Arthur implored. He wasn't quite sure if this Jones estate was Amelia's home or not but he'd rather not risk it and be caught trick or treating at the age of sixteen.

"You asked me where I wanted to go and I said the Jones estate! That's where I want to go!" Peter pouted, stomping his foot down.

"Ok, ok," Arthur placated, not wanting to upset his brother after finally managed to settle him down. The elder reached out his hand, smiling kindly at his brother. Peter's lips immediately tugged up into a grin and merrily grabbed hold of Arthur's waiting hand. It wasn't long however until Peter let go in lieu of collecting candy at the various houses on the way to Jones estate. It was still early on in the evening when the pair arrived at the classic Colonial styled home. Both Peter and Arthur stared at the massive structure for a good minute before turning to face the other.

"Rich snobs?" Peter queried.

"Most likely," Arthur answered.

"You think they'll make us bob for apples and drink cider?"

"Maybe, they probably give out those massive treats too."

"Let's do this," Peter said stoically, as if the two were about to head into battle. Arthur merely nodded and the two approached the stoop. The blue eyed child wasted no time in ringing the doorbell and shouting as loud as he could, "Trick or Treat!"

Not surprisingly, the door opened soon after revealing Arthur's worst nightmare.

"Arthur!" Amelia cried happily, her blue eyes sparkling under thick curled lashes. Her golden locks had been pulled back into an elegant bun that accentuated her high cheeks bones and heart shaped face. A simple golden necklace drew the eye downward towards the bust line of her Victorian inspired dress. The design was obviously meant to be tasteful and withdrawn but the sheer size of her chest stretched the cream fabric and made it more risqué than intended. A large skirt fell at her waist, dipping in the front and framed by golden beads before opening up into pale thin ruffles that grazed the floor.

"Hi Amelia," Arthur smiled back, albeit more demurely.

This is exactly what Arthur feared the most. Out of all the people he didn't want to see that night, Amelia was at the top of the list. He looked like a complete idiot and was going out trick or treating no less.

"Oh~ so this is Amelia," Peter teased, drawing both of the teens attention to him. "Arthur here likes to call out your name when he's alone in his room and doesn't think anyone else can hear him."

Arthur and Amelia turn red at the admission.

"Peter!" Arthur cried, face so flushed the tips of ears were tinged pink. Quickly, he turned to face Amelia, "I-I don't- He doesn't know-I-I-"

Amelia cut off his embarrassed stuttering with a loud, boisterous laugh.

"Your brother is so cute! He reminds me of my little brother," Amelia grinned, opening up the door further and motioning for them to come inside.

Arthur didn't have the nerve to answer and merely nodded as he and Peter trailed after her and into the house. The inside was just as magnificent as the outside. Arthur was forced to crane his head to take in the ridiculously high ceiling, highlighted by a large chandelier.

"Wow! This place is amazing!" Peter exclaimed, in just as much awe as Arthur. Music hung in the background like the light fog that clung to the earth outside. Arthur could see various people dancing and chatting in a grand hall behind Amelia. The traditional and more subdued music enforced Arthur's notion that the party was for a more mature, respectable crowd. This was so teenaged rager.

"Yeah," Amelia shrugged sheepishly, "it's home ya' know? …Can I get you guys some cider?"

"No thanks."

"Sure," Peter answered, earning a harsh glare from Arthur for accepting her offer. The boy merely shrugged and Amelia smiled as she left them in foyer to fetch their drinks.

"Peter!" Arthur hissed, "Why did you say that!?"

"Because you were being a jerk earlier _and_ it's true. I saw you making out with your pillow and calling it Amelia a few weeks ago," Peter grinned wickedly.

"Th-That- Why you were you spying on me?!"

"I wasn't. I just happened to walk by and you left the door cracked. Why don't you just ask her out? I bet she's better than a pillow," Peter grinned. Arthur glared at his brother, fists clenching at his sides as if determining what to do with them. Of course, the ever popular motif of 'throttle' rang through his head, but the more logical part that bogged him down with the consequences of such actions made him hesitate in doing so.

"Alright, here you go," Amelia announced, walking back into the room with two cups of cider and a wide grin. The silk layers of Amelia's dress scrooped across the floor as she made her way to Arthur and Peter.

"Thanks," Arthur said, taking the Dixie cup and sipping the liquid slowly. Amelia eyed him curiously, reflecting on his subdued behavior before turning to Peter. She had apparently deemed it best not to dwell on such minute details.

"So, your big brother's taking you out trick or treating?" Amelia asked, striking up a conversation with the young child.

"Yep, Scott made him."

"Oh, is Scott your step dad?"

"No. Scott's our older brother. Our parents died last year," Arthur interrupted. He knew he didn't need to add the latter admission but he couldn't help but be curious as to how Amelia would respond.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. I-I didn't- Matthew always said I was born with a silver foot in my mouth," Amelia stuttered lamely.

"It's fine. We're getting along well enough now," Arthur answered, turning to sip the rest of his drink and forget the conversation he and Peter had less than an hour ago regarding that particular situation.

Amelia smiled gently, afraid to say anything else lest it bring up upsetting news too. Arthur shifted slightly and looked away from the kind gaze. He didn't quite know if he liked her reaction. After all, it was like everyone else's. But he did admit that he liked her so it didn't irk him much that she repeated the same load of crap he had from everyone else. She seemed to sense his discomfort and thus turned her attention to Peter in hopes of changing the subject.

"So Peter," Amelia exclaimed merrily, turning to face the child who was eyeing the two curiously, "are you having fun and getting a lot of candy?"

Peter nodded excitedly. "Yep! I think people really like my accent coupled with the costume."

"I bet! You and Harry both make for wonderful wizards in my opinion."

"Yep! Arthur makes a great wizard too! He has this robe he wears and tries to-"

"Peter!" Arthur yelled, taking a few quick long strides to where Peter was and clamped a hand over his younger brother's mouth. "Kids," Arthur laughed wearily while Peter struggled against his brother's grip. Amelia chuckled at their antics, reminded of her childhood with her half-brother, Matthew. Arthur paused in his restraining methods. He has never heard Amelia laugh so sweetly and demurely before. It was refreshing to say the least. And it was these silent musings that provided little Peter with enough time to free himself from his brother's grip and hide behind Amelia.

"So you like magic huh?" the Amelia queried innocently. Arthur faulted slightly, being drawn from his inner reverie to answer her question.

"Y-Yeah."

"That's cool. Do you know any tricks?"

"T-tricks?"

"Yeah, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat?"

"No. Arthur doesn't do _that_ kind of magic. He thinks he can do _real_ magic although I've never seen a spell work unless you consider that one time his eyebrows were singed off," Peter laughed good-naturedly. Yes, he did think Arthur was a bit out there and did enjoy tormenting him, but he'd never do anything to truly hurt his older brother.

"'_Real _magic'? Like in Harry Potter?" Amelia asked amazed.

"Uh-huh! Or the Wicked Witches Trio! I learned about them in school today!" Peter announced merrily, unaware of the growingly irate and embarrassed brother only a few feet away from him.

"That's just a story Peter. Magic isn't real and I'm sure Arthur knows that," Amelia told the child earning an unnoticed pout from Peter as her hopeful eyes were cast on Arthur. They seemed to scream, 'back me up here'. Arthur on the other hand was torn as to whether he should do just that and deny his hobby or admit it. Denying magic's existence would certainly anger the spirits and potentially cause them to thwart any casting or summoning's indefinitely.

"I'm sorry Amelia but I have to disagree. Magic is most definitely real," Arthur sighed. Sure he'd be shunned in school as Amelia would certainly tell everybody how the new foreign kid is crazy enough to believe in magic but he hated this place anyway. It couldn't get much worse, could it? Arthur hoped not. Either way, he'd rather not risk an angry sprite's wrath by denying its existence.

"See, I told you so!" Peter chirped.

"Arthur's just joking," Amelia chimed back, a hint of worry growing in her tone.

"No. I'm not. It's real."

"You seriously believe in magic? That you can conjure things out of thin air and crap?" Amelia eyed critically. Her words her harsh and stung at Arthur's core but her intentions held no real malice, just disbelief.

"Yes! Because it's real and I can!"

"Are you telling me you can perform real magic?"

"Absolutely!" Arthur boasted, his ego running away with his mouth before his brain could catch up.

"Can I get a demonstration then?" Amelia bated, eyebrow cocked in disbelief. Arthur didn't get a chance to answer as Peter beat him to the quick.

"Of cour-" Arthur began to say, trailing off as he realized she was asking the impossible. He had yet been capable of successfully casting any spells. "Well- errr- Not quite."

"Why not?"

"Cause Arthur can't cast any spells," Peter laughed.

"Who asked you you little brat?" Arthur hissed. Amelia ignored the volatile exchange, opting to innocently continue the conversation.

"So how can you say magic exists if you never been able to do anything magical?"

Arthur blanched at the point blank question, unsure how to answer it. "Well…just because you can't see something doesn't mean it's not real. You can't see air but that's real."

"Magic isn't air Artie."

"Either way it's just as real!" Arthur snapped taking Amelia off guard. Her eyebrows knit together in annoyance and her lips pulled down into a pout.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is!"

"No! It's! Not!"

"It is too you bloody American git!"

"Then prove it!"

"Fine! I will!"

"You will?" Peter queried incredulously while Amelia eyed him suspiciously.

"How?" she asked.

"I-I-I'll do something!"

"Like what?" Amelia bit back.

"I'll cast a spell!"

"But your spells never work Arthur," Peter groaned.

"Th-that must be because that spellbook is rubbish. I'll get a real spellbook!"

"And where are you going to find a real spellbook, at the Wicked Witches house?" Amelia questioned, placing a hand on her hip and jutting it out slightly in an annoyed manner.

"I-I-Yes!" Arthur retorted, not really paying any mind to what he was saying and it's implications.

"You'll what?" Amelia and Peter nearly screeched, looking aghast.

"I'll get those old biddies spellbook and use it to show you both that magic is real!"

"I thought you said in class that they were probably falsely accused old women or something."

"I thought this whole town thought otherwise," Arthur snipped back.

"Arthur, I don't think this is a good idea. Why don't we just go home?" Peter pleaded. He didn't know why but he didn't like this idea. Normally, causing a little bit of trouble would be deemed as fun in his mind but this didn't have that same exhilarating giddy feeling.

"No! I will prove to the both of you magic is real!" Arthur snipped, crossing his arm indignantly.

"Fine," Amelia bit back, now mildly angry with the British teen. Their encounter had shifted from fortuitous and fun to bitter and warring. Neither had intended to upset the either but as the battles of wills and snarky wit began, both refused to falter. The two glared daggers at the other, keeping eye contact. A silent pact was made that the loser would be the one to break the other's gaze first. Arthur lost. It had only taken a second, a momentary pause to consider just what he had said in his fit of anger but it was enough to break concentration and glance down at his shoes. Amelia smirked victoriously; feeling vindicated slightly knowing she had at least won this round.

"Hmph, let's go then shall we?" Arthur grumbled.

"We?" Peter and Amelia parroted.

"Yes, we! You two gits are coming along with me!"

"What?!"

"If I'm going to be goaded into breaking and entering, I'm sure as hell not doing it alone," Arthur growled, turning his back on Amelia and Peter and headed to the door.

"B-But," Amelia stuttered lamely, "I have candy duty."

"Really? That's your excuse? Candy duty?" Arthur grinned, knowing he had her.

Amelia gulped and nodded.

"You know what I think?" the elder blonde teen queried teasingly. "I think you're afraid."

"W-What? No! Th-There's no way I'm afraid. I'm a he-hero," Amelia replied, her words belying the truth.

"Then prove it and come _hero_," Arthur smirked.

"Fine! I will!" Amelia pouted before pausing her actions. Like Arthur had done earlier, she was probably replaying what had just occurred and what she agreed to. "L-Let me just get changed first," she said suddenly, slowly moving up the grand staircase in the foyer like a woman condemned. When she had finally left the room, Peter promptly kick Arthur in the shin.

"Peter! Just what was that for!" Arthur bit, hopping on one foot as he nursed his injured leg.

"For being a jerk! I don't want to go some creepy old witches house! I learned about them at school! They ate children Arthur! Children! I'm still a child ya' know!"

"Calm down Peter!" Arthur scolded, finally putting his leg down. "Nothing's going to happen. I'm just going to attempt a simple spell."

"I want to go home Arthur!" Peter hissed, ignoring Arthur's attempts to calm him.

"We will! Just once I show you two magic real!"

"I don't care about that! I don't want to go!"

Arthur grimaced. He couldn't back down now. Amelia would surely think him foolish if she didn't already. He had to at least try and prove it to her. Backing out wasn't an option.

"Listen Peter, I'll do whatever you want me to. Just please, go along with this," Arthur begged.

Peter's blue eyes bore into Arthur's green.

"I want every bit of allowance Scott gives you for the year."

"No! That's ridiculous!"

"Then no deal!" Peter snapped, crossing his arms and turning away from his brother. Arthur hesitated. Scott gave him twenty dollars a week minimum and considering Arthur didn't have any friends or social life to spend it on, it added up. The blond bit his cheek considering the proposition, his mind finally made up when Amelia called to them from the top of the stairs.

"Oh! You're still here…good. It's not like I took my time changing in hopes that you two would leave or anything…" Amelia announced, coming down the spiral staircase in a pair of simple dark jeans that hugged her legs perfectly. It nearly convinced Arthur that denim jeans had been made for her and her alone. A cream crop top cover by a warm looking aviator bomber jacket completed the look and would certainly keep her safe from the October chill. And while their objective was mildly ridiculous and humorous, Arthur knew at that moment that even an absurd errand with Amelia was far worth the wasted time for her company.

"Deal," Arthur hissed, stealthily placing out him palm which Peter met in slapping down his own hand harshly in agreement.

"You guys aren't having second thoughts or anything right?" Amelia queried, a twinge of fear hung in her voice.

"Not at all. You?" Arthur grinned, reveling in her inner turmoil. Yes, he did admit to wanting to spend time with cute blonde but that didn't mean he didn't want to tease her as well. She was just so much fun when trying to put on a brave face.

"Nope!" Amelia answered, lying through her teeth.

"Then let's crack on," the blond teen smiled, heading to the door and the leading the trio into the dark Halloween night.

* * *

A/N: So, the overwhelming vote was Pirate Arthur. I also thought it fit because it could be easily reverted back to do a common looking outfit like the one Max wears in the movie. I didn't want Arthur to over dress up. So yeah. I have a pic, that is not mine and is in no way shape or form belonging to me, of what Arthur is supposed to look like if you want to see it, message me. I'm sorry, I didn't get to the introduction of the Wicked Witch Trio but it's coming up. I hope you enjoy the interactions between the characters in this chapter as it took me forever to do. I hope they all seem like plausible reactions cause that's what I'm going for obviously. PLEASE tell me what you think. Do the characters mesh well, are they jumping around too much (I'm worried Arthur falls under that category) etc.? Leave a comment and you'll get a shout out in the next chappie ok? So comment and forever have your name be immortalized by this Hocus Pocus, / Hetalia crossover. XP


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is dedicated to: elizabeta H. Austria, Marshal Thompson, Acrnavy, Fred and George Weasley Twins

"We're home"

The trio had ventured through the darkened streets of Salem past the vast array of trick-or-treaters until they reached an old stone wall covered in ivy. The blocks were dated and worn by centuries of weather and stood in stark contrast to the relatively new sidewalk that lay at its feet.

"I-I heard at school that the bones of over a hundred children are buried here," Peter stammered nervously, "I-is that true?"

Arthur scoffed and was about to respond with a quick retort but Amelia beat him to the quick.

"I-it's ok P-Peter. Since I-I'm the hero, I'll pr-protect you," Amelia stuttered, clearly as frightened as the young child but kindly trying to placate Peter despite her own qualms.

The elder of the three rolled his eyes. They were acting like such children, although in Peter's case that's just what he was. Magic wasn't something to fear, respect yes, but fear no. Also, they'd probably get there and there would be no spell book at all, just a decrepit house with a tragic past. Of course, that would severely hinder his ability to prove magic was real but at least he got to spend time with Amelia. Maybe she'd even grab onto him out of fear. Arthur nearly drooled at the thought of her large chest rubbing against his arm. His vivid imagination could already picture the scene.

"_Ahhh~ Arthur! I'm so scared! Save me! Use your magic!" Amelia squealed latching onto the teen's arm in a fierce death grip. Her blue eyes stared into his green pleadingly while her lips quivered._

"_Oh, Amelia. I'll use the magic of love to save us," Arthur answered huskily, catching her chin between his forefingers and leaning in._

"_Oh Arthur~" Amelia whimpered before he would close the distance between her lips and-_

"Hey jerkface!"

"Huh?" Arthur asked, coming out of his dream like state.

"We're here!" Peter pouted, pointing to the rod iron gate that stood between the trio and the witches cabin. The wooden planks appeared gray by the light of the moon and a few board had large notches that gave blackened glimpses to the inside of the rundown abode. The shingles on the roof frayed and broke away from each other unnaturally as if they wished to escape the house. Dirt encased the structure from years of disuse and disrepair. The trees and shrubs did the same, encasing the yard in a vast expanse of overgrowth, trying to shield the dwelling from prying eyes. All that was needed were bats to fly from the chimney and the iconic haunted house motif would be complete.

"Alright, let's go then," Arthur announced undeterred, moving to open the gate. The iron bars squealed as the drug against the cobblestone ground but didn't give much leeway.

"It's locked," Peter deadpanned as if he had figured this would be the case all along.

"Oh well! Time to go! We tried our best!" Amelia chirped, turning on her heel to leave.

"Oh no you don't!" Arthur exclaimed, grabbing hold of her shoulder and keeping the blonde in place.

"But Artie!" Amelia whined, wanting nothing more than to go home. The walk over was creepy enough and the house was even more so. And that was just the outside, who knew what the inside looked like!

"I thought you were a hero?" Arthur queried mischievously, knowing she wouldn't dare leave now. Although the notion was ridiculous, Amelia took her self-proclaimed hero reputation very seriously. And just as Arthur predicted, Amelia quieted her complaints. Although it would seem it took her quite an effort considering she was biting her lip as if to forcefully reel in her protests.

"Well how are we going to get in jerkface?" Peter queried, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

"We'll hop the gate obviously," Arthur retorted as if it was the most natural response in the world.

"A-Are you sure. I-I mean, gates are put up for a reason," Amelia rightfully interjected.

"Gates are like rules and rules are meant to be broken," Arthur countered, placing a foot on one of the rod iron bars and hoisting himself up.

"Coming from the former student council president," Peter bit under his breath before attempting to climb the iron structure. His small stature made it difficult however and forced him to rely on Amelia's and Arthur's help to get over the gate. Amelia was the last to cross the boundary, taking her time to descend.

"Hand off ass," Amelia hissed as Arthur attempted to aid her in her descent in an indecent manner. Arthur smirked and removed his offending hand to meet her glaring blue eyes. If her protests and pathetic attempts to abandon their outing hadn't been of any indication of her unwillingness to be here, her glare most certainly was. Regardless of his cohorts attitudes, Arthur couldn't help but be excited. He hadn't experienced such a thrill since he was last in England with his mates.

"To the witches den we go," Arthur chimed gleefully, earning sharp looks from Amelia and Peter. He was enjoying this too much in their collective opinions. Regardless of their misgivings, the duo followed Arthur along the bramble-ridden path to the rotted front stoop. "Watch your step," Arthur advised as he gingerly made his way up the steps and to the front door. A large padlock barred them from entrance and forced Arthur to pause in his tracks.

"It's locked too. Can we just call it a night and go home now?" Peter whined.

"No," Arthur hissed, "I'm going to prove to you two that magic does indeed exist."

"Arthur, we really don't care. Why don't you try and impress Amelia by doing some bench presses or something normal instead?" the youngest of the three groaned. Arthur and Amelia's face flushed red and brought forth a series of stammered denials coupled with profuse shakes of Amelia head. Her golden locks flew about and a slight glimmer caught Arthur's eye.

"Amelia," Arthur spoke softly, gently reaching a hand out to still her head. The girl froze as in a spell and turned an even deeper shade of crimson that covered her entire face. But to her surprise and chagrin, Arthur moved her head to the side and plucked a bobby pin from her hair before turning round to the lock and fiddling with it.

'Idiot,' Peter and Amelia thought ruefully, casting each other sidelong looks.

A loud click announced the unlocking of the bolt. Arthur, sporting a highly enthusiastic expression, turned to face his two companions who were clearly not as enthused.

"You coming?" Arthur asked merrily as he pushed opened the door. The hinges squealed, having not been used in years. Blackness met the three as they stepped inside the wooden structure, causing Amelia to rub her arms to fight off a nonexistent chill. Arthur wasted little time in pulling out his cell phone, using the light of the screen to cast a faint glow on their surroundings. Cobwebs and dust encased every object within the home. Arthur sneezed a few times as each step and exploratory move he made shook up new allergens.

"It's really dark in here," Amelia whispered, afraid to speak any louder for fear of waking…_something_.

Arthur agreed silently, flicking his phone to and fro to establish a fair idea of just what was in the house. It wasn't until he nearly stumbled into a wooden beam that he noticed a mounted wax candle. Stopping, he searched his pockets for the lighter he had lifted from Scott. His older brother liked to smoke much to…everyone's chagrin, particularly Arthur's, so it had become a habit of his to steal his lighters or smokes. Who knew it would come in handy? Thankfully, he found the lighter and set the wick alight. The candle gave off far more light than Arthur's phone and cast enough light to allow him to find other candles similarly mounted. After the whole room was illuminated, he turned to give a victorious smirk to his brother and Amelia only to realize they had found items to preoccupy themselves with. Amelia was staring at a row of vials resting in dirt covered shelf. Their contents had long since molded over and disintegrated but a few vestiges of what they had been remained although it was hard to discern just what for certain it was. Amelia could have sworn she saw a few bones in the jars and a few mysterious liquids.

Peter on the other hand was focused on the cauldron set in the middle of the room. In the light, the home certainly did appear to have all the telltale signs of being a witch's house Arthur was forced to admit. He was now torn from being excited at the prospect of finding a real spell book to upset that his rant in class was potentially wrong. Opting to let Amelia and Peter be, Arthur went exploring on his own, sorting through the book shelves. The book jackets were encased in grime and hard to read. He picked out a few and opened them only to find their pages wormed through and indecipherable. It was then that his eyes caught of crimson irises staring back at him and in flash and horrible screech emerged from the creature as it lashed out for him.

Arthur screamed as the beast latched onto him, sinking his claws into his skin and hooking around his shoulder. Amelia and Peter screamed and jumped as well at Arthur's outburst, clutching onto one another as Arthur fought his aggressor, finally ripping it free of his shoulder and onto the floor. The cat ran away immediately, darting back into the darkness where it melded into the black seamlessly.

"Stupid cat!" Arthur spat, nursing his shoulder angrily.

"We should go," Amelia announced, ushering herself and Peter to the door.

Arthur grumbled but followed after them, looking into the dark recesses in hopes of spotting the feline and giving it what was coming to it. His emerald irises scanned the house relentlessly as he made his way to door, nearly tripping when he reached the entrance.

"Damn it!" Arthur bit, more than angry at this point. He had been humiliated, attacked, and nearly cracked his head open by tripping over some, some, some, …book? Arthur stared at the offending item curiously. Had he really missed the tome on his way in? Arthur crouched over the book, taking in the interesting leather like jacket and sewn edges. A curious circle that looked like a closed eyelid sat right by the latch.

"Arthur!" Amelia called from outside the house with Peter behind her.

"Hold on! I think I found something!" Arthur hollered back. "You guys should come in here and check it out."

Amelia rolled her eyes and cautiously reentered the house with Peter in tow.

"Ok, what is it?" Amelia grumbled before her blue eyes caught sight of the book. "What it that?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered truthfully. "It looks like it's made out of some weird leather though."

"I don't like this Arthur," Peter spoke up, hiding behind Amelia's legs.

"Stop being such a baby Peter," Arthur scolded, picking up the tome carefully and setting down on a nearby shelf.

"I agree with Peter Arthur. Let's just go."

"No, wait," Arthur spoke up, opening the book. A gust ripped through the house tussling the trio hair and scattering a few loose papers about the room.

"No, Arthur! I'm serious! I wanna go home!" Peter cried.

"It's just some wind- Wait… I think I can read this!" Arthur exclaimed excitedly, breaking into a chant.

Amelia shook, not likely the odd words coupled with the spooky atmosphere. This is exactly how horror movies start. A bunch of kids go someplace they shouldn't do something or read something they shouldn't and the blonde chick always dies first! That's her! Peter clutched onto her leg and she couldn't help but envy him. Kids always make it out ok. No one wants to see a kid die!

"I don't like this," Peter whispered into Amelia's denim jeans to which Amelia agreed.

Finally Arthur ceased his incantation, leaving the room eerily quiet.

"…What a load of rubbish!" Arthur bit angrily. He had hoped something would happen. He didn't know what but he had such an adrenaline rush as he spoke the words he thought that this would be his first successful spell.

"Ok, Arthur. You had your fin let's g-" Amelia tried to say before the rattling of the floorboards cut her off. An unsettling green glow poured through the slits and holes in the floorboards. A wind, far stronger than the previous gale, ripped about the dwelling.

"What's happening!" Amelia screamed, clutching onto a bookcase for dear life.

"My brother's an idiot!" Peter retorted, holding onto Amelia's leg just as tight.

A high pitched cackle filled the air, growing ever louder with every passing second. Amelia jumped when the door flew open behind her. Out of instinct, she ducked for cover behind a nearby cupboard while Peter did the same albeit on the other side of the doorway.

Arthur stood shock still in the middle of the home until the vague silhouette of three persons pervaded the stoop. The blond followed Amelia's and Peter's example and hid behind a shelf lined with vials. The creak of the stoop announced the presence of the three new beings in the dwelling.

"We're home sisters!" a female voice declared merrily.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all like this chapter. It's getting a bit easier to write now but I do expect some roadblocks in the future. As predicted, this story won't get finished by tomorrow but maybe Thanksgiving… ;p


	5. Chapter 5

Trickery

A curled boot toe crossed the threshold first, two more sets following behind. Emerald irises eyed the empty room curiously.

"Do you see sisters? My curse worked perfectly!" Alice grinned maliciously.

"Probably because it wasn't a potion," Elin countered blandly.

"What doth thee say?" Alice snapped, glaring daggers at Elin.

"Nothing sister," Elin answered, looking about the room in a bored manner, avoiding Alice's eyes.

"That ist what I thought," Alice humphed; her green skirt dragging across the dust covered floor, stopping just in front of Arthur's hiding place. Arthur briefly wondered if she heard his heart beating in his chest considering just how loudly it pulsed in his ears. The shelf creaked and moaned and Arthur swore he was done for. "But just who brought us back?" Alice pondered, running a long, pointed nail across the yellowed page of the spell book resting atop the shelf Arthur had hid behind. In his haste, he had left the book where it was. The blond nearly let loose a loud sigh of relief knowing that the witch was not after him…at least not yet anyways.

A shriek made him jump and rattle the shelves but Alice didn't seem to notice as her attention was diverted to the source of the noise as well.

"Yes! My lucky rat tail! It's still here!" Andreea grinned, looping her fingers around the appendage and pulling on it gleefully.

"Idiot! Doth thou wish to scare me to death!" Alice snapped.

"But won't you just come back if I do?" Andreea answered simply.

Alice growled and glared at Andreea who returned her look with a blank expression, not quite understanding the blonde's reaction. Alice's venomous green eyes were forced from her sister when a tap on her shoulder reverted her attention to Elin.

"Alice, I smell children," the fair haired witch whispered into Alice's ear. Two pairs of green eyes widen. Arthur couldn't believe what he had just overheard. They could _smell _them? _SMELL_? While Arthur panicked internally, Alice grinned maliciously.

"Sick 'em," Alice commanded, huddling next to Elin who immediately set about the house in search. Their backs hunched as they picked up their dresses in an effort to move more silently.

"What are thee doing?" Andreea giggled coming right up behind Alice and Elin, startling the two.

"Hush!" Alice bit, grabbing hold of Andreea's mouth and dragging her ear down to Alice's own level while Elin glared at the brunette. "There is a child here!" Alice whispered.

"A child!" Andreea announced loudly, earning her a whack from Alice and an even sharper look from Elin. "Oh. I mean, _a child_!" Andreea repeated albeit much quieter but the damaged had been done.

Peter's head jolted up from where he had hidden it between his knees. He told Arthur he didn't want to go here. He told him he wanted to leave after they arrived. Why couldn't his pig head of a brother listen to him for once! Now he was going to be cooked into some witch's stew! He'd haunt Arthur forever if he died! Peter could hear the witches grow closer murmuring to each other.

"I'd say it's a young boy…about 8."

'Peter!' Arthur thought, risking his position to peak his head out from the side of the book shelf. He wasn't quite sure where Peter was hiding but he did know he had seen Peter duck in that direction when the door flew open. He had to draw their attention away from there. Without much else thought, Arthur did the only thing he could think of and pushed on the shelf knocking a plethora of vials to the floor, shattering each one. All of the witches jumped at the commotion behind them, surprised to see the heap of glass and rotted contents on the floor.

"My ingredients!" Alice shrieked running over to the broken vials. A snarl tore through her lips as her elongated nails gripped the shelf, ready to tear it apart and see just who was behind it mean another sound diverted her attention.

Arthur was frozen in place, unsure of just what kind of torture he would face when the witch found him. A noise drew him from his frightened musings and curiosity forced his head to peak over the side of the cabinet only to find Amelia's pleading blue eyes focused on him. She had used her legendary softball skills and broken a window in hopes of giving Arthur enough time to get to a new hiding place. Arthur took the opportunity gratefully and subtly crawled behind an old trunk.

Meanwhile, Alice motioned from Andreea to investigate the newest source of ruckus while she peered over the shelf. To her dismay, she found nothing. Tapping the wood as she pondered just what could have knocked over the vials, she watched Andreea head to the window. Cautiously, Andreea opened the panes and looked outside. Nothing but the rustle of the overgrown shrubs and a cool night chill met her inquisitive gaze.

"I don't see anything Alice," she answered befuddled. Alice's pair of thin lips fell in response and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Alice, doth thou think our abode be plagued by spirits now?" Andreea asked softly, as if afraid of the answer. Alice was quick to dismiss the brunettes qualms but am eerie cry interrupted her.

"Ooohhhhhhh~" the voice rang throughout the house much to the witches dismay. "I command that thou leave and never return~" the voice called out, it's voice dragging out syllables and shaking slightly.

"I command though to show themselves!" Alice cried unwilling to believe in the invisible creature just yet. A brief scuffling caught her attention and quietly, she stalked to the stack of shelves near the door. Before she could pear over the sides, a figure shot up forcing her to jump back. The creature was like none she had seen before. A cream colored top that fell at the waist covered the torso of the creature while a leather like jacket followed suit. However there was no head to be seen. A strange blue fabric clothed the lower half as if it were a man but the chest spoke otherwise.

"A Mananangcal!" Alice hissed. She had only heard stories of the Philippian vampiric creature in books but never seen one. They were dark creatures that could separate their torsos from their bodies and sprout wings to fly. They fed on any living thing, be it human, beast …or witch. However, her horror at seeing the beast could not be hidden as she backed away.

"…Yes…I'm a-a- Mangcanalgal…a. And I will…eat your…souls…(I think). Leave this house and never return! Oooohhhhhhhh~" the creature announced, slowly approaching the three.

"Alice! Save me!" Andreea cried clutching onto Alice.

"Get off me you buffoon!" Alice spat, throwing Andrea off of her. Quickly she turned to Elin who looked surprised…well as surprised as Elin could look considering her expression hardly ever changed past the scowl she wore. "Elin, Andreea, let us fly~"

"Yes! Fly witc~ Ooof!" The trio stared at the downed Mananangcal who fought to upright itself after having tripped on loose floor board. The cream top shifted briefly showing a mop of blonde hair. Alice's green eyes sparkled at the sight and she grinned as turned to face her sisters.

"Oh yes sisters! We must fly. We shan't want our life force to be taken by this Mananangcal! But wait! Is there nothing here that can satisfy this creature's thirst?" Alice pondered aloud facetiously. Her emerald eyes caught her sister's pale lavender ones before darting between her sister and the shelf they had first approached. Elin scrunched her brow quizzically at first before finally ascertaining the silent message. Noiselessly, Elin made her way to the desk while Andreea made enough noise for all three of them to disguise their true intentions despite that Andreea was just as oblivious to her sister's intentions as were Amelia, Arthur, and Peter. True to her sister's suspicions, Elin spotted messy blond locks just behind the wooden structure. Elin looked to her sister to find Alice ready to strike the false creature and readied herself to move when her sister did. Alice's hand reached out to pull the imposter Mananangcal up by the collar, revealing a teenaged girl flopping about. Recognizing the moment, Elin reached behind the desk and grabbed the other child by the scruff of his neck.

"Oh dear! It would seem our Mananangcal has turned out to be a teenager and a child!" Alice cooed, forcing the two into chairs by the cauldron centered in the middle of the room.

"Let us go!" Amelia bit, struggling against Alice's grip.

"Oh! But how rude of me would it be if I didn't offer thou to stay for dinner!"

"We're not really hungry," Peter answered hopefully, earning an amused look from Alice.

"Does this mean that thee doth not need thy brooms?" Andreea asked, standing by the doorway all three brooms in hand and ready to fly.

"No my sister! These mortals have tried to fool us! Now tell me my pretty's, what year ist it?" Alice pondered.

"Why would we tell you?" Amelia snapped.

"Hmmm, I suppose I could just rip out your tongue and you could tell no one nothing…Elin! The pliers!" Alice grinned maliciously. Amelia's face paled, particularly as Elin fetched a large metal object and handed it to Alice. "Open wide~" Alice cooed. Amelia instinctively shut her mouth tighter and tried to squirm as the metal contraption was pushed closer to her face.

"Wait!" Peter cried, his blue eyes threatening to spill tears. "It's 2013!"

"2013…" Alice pondered thoughtfully.

"Sisters, we have been asleep for over three centuries!" Alice cackled, her sisters joining. Alice's green eyes lit up, falling back on their two captives. "We have a lot of catching up to do sisters. Why not let us pick up where we started up centuries ago?" Alice announced, approaching the two once more.

"Elin, I have a feeling all of our old ingredients are rotted. I think we need to replenish our stock," the green eyed witch grinned maliciously. Elin smiled along with her sister, bringing the pliers back to Amelia's face.

"Hey! Stop that! I told you what you wanted to know!" Peter yelled, as Amelia struggled against the witch's hold on her, turning her head away from the device inching nearer to her face.

"Point being child?" Alice cooed.

"So, I told you so you wouldn't hurt us!"

"Now when did we make that arrangement?" Alice asked, grabbing hold of Amelia's cheeks and forcing her mouth open, the plier's just centimeters away from grabbing her tongue.

"Stop!"

All three heads turned round towards the voice, spotting a boy atop the rafters of the house.

"A boy! Can I play with this one!" Andreea giggled.

"Bite thy tongue idiot!" Alice snapped. "And what trickery will though attempt to fool us with boy?"

"I am no trickster! I am a powerful mage and will rid the earth of treachery for a second time if you do not release my friends."

"Oh really?" Alice pandered, coyly grinning at her sisters before directing her attention back to Arthur. In a flash, bolts of green lightning flew from her finger tips, striking a wooden beam next to Arthur.

"Thou missed," Elin commented blandly.

"We've just been resurrected. Give me some time to reclaim full use of my powers sister," Alice hissed, upset that she had missed her target as well.

Arthur had only just managed to compose himself after the near death hit; the ends of his hairs had even been slightly singed by the attack. Peter and Amelia were equally as shocked, eyes wide. Fear kept them in the seats the witches had placed them in. Alice and Elin traded a few more insults while Andreea turned her attention to Peter and Amelia.

"You have such pretty blue eyes! I don't think Alice would mind if I plucked them," the brunette giggled, advancing on Amelia. Amelia's eye grew wide in fear and her eyes quickly darted between the witch and the room, searching for something she could use as a weapon. Her eyes landed on few objects, a pan, their brooms, etc., but she doubted she would be given the opportunity to reach any of them before the witches attacked her. Thankfully, Arthur recovered from his near death experience enough to direct the witch's attention back to him.

"You have upset the great and powerful Arthur!" the blond announced, summoning up every ounce of courage he had.

The three witches looked amongst themselves in confusion, determining if any of them had heard of such a wizard.

"The punishment is death. I now unleash the howls of death upon thee!" Arthur yelled maliciously, setting his phone to its highest volume and playing the heaviest metal band song he had.

The witches covered their ears and screamed as the music blared through the house.

"Run!" Arthur yelled to Amelia and Peter as the witches scrambled below him.

"Alice! My ears! They doth threaten to bleed!" Andreea moaned.

"Cover thy ears sisters, stuff them cloths!" Alice commanded, running to a chest and grabbing a handful of rags. During their frantic attempts to still the loud howls that threatened to kill them, they paid little heed to Amelia and Peter who had both managed to run out the door. Arthur was soon to follow but tripped on the same uprooted floor board that had downed Amelia earlier. He groaned as he hit the floor hard, barely registering a slight pressure on his chest until his green eyes caught sight crimson irises. The cat from before glared down at him.

"Nice going dumbkopf!" the cat hissed.

"Y-You talk?" Arthur whispered dumbfounded, his eyes growing wide in shock.

"Ja dumbkopf! Now get the book!" the cat commanded but Arthur was still in too far a state of shock to do anything aside from stare dumbly. The cat hissed in annoyance and took a swipe at the blond. "I said get the book!"

Arthur hastily complied, getting up and grabbing the book he had used to summon the witches. It was the only book he could think the cat was referring to. Hopefully he wasn't wrong; those claws were sharp. Alice caught sight of Arthur just as he picked up the book, their green eyes meeting before Arthur ran out the door.

"My book!" Alice screeched, unwilling to remove her hands from her ears to do anything about it.

"What?" Andreea and Elin asked confused. The numerous rags they held over their ears prevented them from hearing just what exactly Alice had said. Alice rounded on them, her mouth falling open and close but no sound aside the dull blaring of the metal music reached the two sister's ears. Confused, they turned to face each other to see if they had any clue as to what Alice was saying but neither had a clue. They were so focused on trying to decipher Alice's muted cries, they failed to notice the faint thrum of the music had ended in favor of a far more somber melody. The song had finished and moved onto the next track listing which sadly was an Adele number.

Finally, Alice grew sick of her sister's confused looks and inability to lip read and wretched the rags from her ears and then those of her sisters.

"I said, 'My book!' That brat has taken-" Alice paused in her rant as a sweet voice rang through the air.

"Pretty," Andreea giggled softly.

Alice growled and headed towards the source of the sound. Her gnarled nails scratched against the wooden rafters before finding her target. Clenching her fingers around the device she brought it down so that all three could see it.

"Be careful Alice," Andreea warned as Alice flipped the device over in her hand.

"What is it Alice?" Elin asked, her eyes inspecting the device.

Alice growled and threw the thing to the ground breaking it into pieces.

"It is nothing but a mere music box!" Alice snarled, "We have been tricked once more! And now those brats have my book! After them!"

The three stomped out of the house, hiking up their skirts as they marched into the cold Halloween night.

* * *

Thank you to all my reviewers. I'm glad you all enjoy this story and liked the last chapter. I hope you like this one as well. Sorry I wasn't able to finish before or on Halloween. :)

Oh and by the way, Mananangcal are real folklore creature. I mean, they aren't real real but their is folklore about them. I chose the Mananangcal cause I watched an episode of TED on Youtube about vampire creatures throughout history and I thought I could incorporate some actual knowledge in this fiction. So yeah, now you know something about Philippians vampire folklore.


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